


Out On Parole

by viksherenqueer



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Canon Divergence - Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Changing POV, Continuation of another fic, Eventual Smut, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Humor, Light Angst, M/M, Magic, Multi, New Asgard, New Relationship, Other, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-30
Updated: 2020-09-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:34:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26186497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viksherenqueer/pseuds/viksherenqueer
Summary: A continuation of boleyn13's fic House Arrest, in which Dr. Strange puts a magical barrier around New Asgard to keep Loki trapped. To no one's surprise, Loki finds a way around it.“A toast,” Strange starts, holding his glass up for a moment. “To…”“Your inability to keep me locked up?” Loki jokingly offers with a mischievous little twinkle in his eyes.“To your inability to stay away from me."
Relationships: Loki & Thor (Marvel), Loki/Stephen Strange
Comments: 7
Kudos: 52





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [House arrest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23577415) by [boleyn13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boleyn13/pseuds/boleyn13). 



> hi there everyone! been a hot minute since i wrote anything but this quarantine has got me inspired, i guess. i've also recently fallen in love with the mcu, and by extension both loki and strange. 
> 
> so this fic is based off another one that i absolutely adore and you can find [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23577415). my fic picks up right where that one leaves off. the tags will probably be updated as i add to this fic, considering i don't really have a solid plan. for now, i just want to experiment with these two and their relationship. 
> 
> there will also be content warnings before every chapter! for this chapter there's a little angst based around stephen's issues with his hands, and also loki has a thought about how the grandmaster used to like getting him drunk before sex.

There was a chair in Strange’s library that Loki had grown particularly fond of in the time he had been in and out of the New York Sanctum. Most of the time spent on it he had been invisible of course, messing around with the wizard’s playlists or eavesdropping on conversations. Now, however, he was fully visible. Sat comfortably, legs crossed, a book across his lap. He was well aware that Strange would probably prefer to be sat here himself instead of on the loveseat across the way, but Loki had a point to prove. If Strange really was serious about dinner tonight, about seeing Loki, then he had to learn that there were sacrifices to make. Including his favorite chair, or perhaps a comfy jumper. He wouldn’t consider himself a selfish lover per se; he just liked getting his way.

“So for dinner,” Strange begins after several more minutes of silence, Loki’s eyes straying from the words on the page to meet the other’s eyes. “Do you have any preference? Allergies or anything of that sort?” 

“No allergies,” Loki answers, drumming the fingers of his good hand against the open page. “As for preferences, I am not as picky an eater as many assume. I’ve been to countless planets and experienced… Some bizarre foodstuff. I’m sure whatever you come up with will be more than acceptable.” Hopefully. Most Midgardian foods he’d tried hadn’t been that different from things on Asgard. Different animals, different produce, but similar execution. 

“Ah, well,” Strange sits up, suddenly looking a little… Sheepish, perhaps? Loki would usually find joy in this expression, but considering he had done nothing to justify it, he was more confused than anything else. “I am not much of a cook. As a surgeon, I held pretty long hours and relied largely on takeout. I have been trying to teach myself since I have more free time as of late, but… Well, I was assuming we would order in. Or go out.” 

While takeout or going out someplace did sound enjoyable, Loki did like the idea of showing off his skills. Especially in an area where Strange was apparently incompetent. “Where is your kitchen?”

“Down the hall, why?” Loki sets his book aside and leaves the room without a word. He’s unsurprised to hear footsteps behind him, peeking into doorways until he finds the kitchen. A quick look at the fridge isn’t as disappointing as expected, at least. “What are you doing?”

“Do you have pasta?” Loki ignores his question, opening the freezer and finding a pack of chicken. He could work with this. A quick spell has it thawed to room temperature in mere seconds, the trickster setting it aside and digging out a few vegetables with his good arm. 

“Yes,” Strange finally gives, seeming to get it through his head that demanding answers from the God of Mischief was about as useful as interrogating a brick wall. He fetches some boxed pasta from a cupboard, setting it down and looking over the spread of things Loki had brought out. “Chicken alfredo?” 

“About time you caught on,” Loki hums, picking a knife from the block. It could do with a sharpen, but it would be enough to dice some peppers. Unfortunately, cutting things with one hand was a challenge. 

“Let me,” Strange moves to take the knife, his fingers briefly touching Loki’s. 

“Thought you couldn’t cook?” Loki inquires, trying to get the little quip out quickly. It was simply an accidental touch of hands but it had an intimate quality to it, something that affected Loki a lot more than he liked. 

“I was a brain surgeon,” Strange scoffs, going to work. “I think I can chop some vegetables.” 

“Alright.” Loki went about finding some pots and pans, putting some water on to boil, and getting the chicken out of its package. After a quick raid of the spice rack, he takes a moment to flavor the chicken. He also gets the ingredients for the sauce together, stopping occasionally to look at Strange. The wizard was seemingly focused on making all the bits the same size, almost looking frustrated. Had Strange always had such a strong shake in his hands? Loki had noticed some tremors once or twice before, but not like this. Strange seemed to redouble his efforts on chopping, the tension in the muscles just making it worse. 

“They don’t need to be perfect,” Loki finally interjects. He comes over, placing a hand over the one holding the knife. Strange stills, turning and looking annoyed.

“I’m fine,” he snaps. “I don’t need help.” Most people would be turned off by the venom in his voice but Loki was more than used to being on the receiving end of such things. When you were used to people yelling at you, you also quickly learned how to pick on other things. Were they really upset with you, or were you simply someone to take it out on? He had played this game with his father for centuries.

“I didn’t offer to help you,” Loki finally says, shrugging. “I simply said they don’t need to be perfect.”

Strange meets his eyes for a long moment, seemingly unsure of what to say, before setting the knife down. Loki takes the cutting board of peppers, dumping them into a pan to saute. He gets the chicken going in another pan and begins mixing the ingredients for the sauce. It’s not a complicated dinner but it does involve some multi-tasking. 

“Would you like a drink?” Strange asks after a few moments of silence. Loki turns to watch him fetch some wine glasses from another cupboard before turning to look at Loki expectantly. 

“Red, if you have it.”

“Of course,” Strange fetches a bottle, mostly full, and pours Loki a deep glass. He also fetches a bottle of white from the counter to fill his own glass. Loki takes the bottle from him, pouring some of it into the sauce before giving it a stir. 

“A toast,” Strange starts, holding his glass up for a moment. “To…”

“Your inability to keep me locked up?” Loki jokingly offers with a mischievous little twinkle in his eyes.

“To your inability to stay away from me,” Strange retorts, but there’s something joking in his gaze. Loki knew he could get used to this playful banter back and forth. It was a dynamic he found comfortable.

They clink their glasses together, both of them taking a sip of their respective drinks before falling into a comfortable silence. Loki turns his attention to the food, letting Strange help when a two-handed task comes about. Draining the pasta, fetching some glass bowls from a high shelf. Loki could’ve used seidr to do these things but Strange was hovering, obviously wanting to do some of the work. 

They eventually find themselves at the small dining table in the kitchen, on their second glasses of wine and picking at their food. “This is delicious,” Strange seems almost surprised after his first bite, looking towards Loki. “Why does a prince know how to cook? I assumed you would have people to do that for you.”

“Oh, we certainly had cooks.” Loki begins, pausing to enjoy a bite of his own food. He loved the little pop of color red peppers added to dishes. Something flashy amongst simple colors. “I often found myself so distracted with my studies that I missed meals. My tutors kept me very busy, along with all of the extracurriculars. I kept odd hours. It was one thing asking for someone to bring me a late dinner, but another thing entirely to realize it was well past midnight and I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. With no one awake to make me something, I had to learn to do so myself. I had numerous books on the subject and plenty of tools at my disposal.”

Strange could relate to keeping odd hours, as well as forgetting bodily needs like eating for favor of studying. He had been a surgeon, after all. It was basically in his job description. “What sort of things did you study?”

“History, combat, etiquette, foreign relations… Amongst many other things. Seidr, of course, as well as herbal apothecary, horseback riding, countless languages... “ Loki had spent most of his younger years either reading or taking notes. At the time he had thought being knowledgeable and well-rounded would be enough to impress his father. How wrong he had been. “I speak several hundred languages,” he concludes, not wanting to dwell on sour thoughts. 

“Several hundred?” Strange scoffs, shaking his head. “How do you even remember that many? I still mix up Latin and Greek and I have an eidetic memory.”

“Well, considering all the people who spoke those originally are dead, I don’t think you have to worry about being fluent.” Loki chuckles, spinning some spaghetti around his fork. “I am a little over a thousand years old. At least I learned practical languages, unlike Thor. He learned Groot.”

“Groot?”

“Talking trees.” Loki elaborates. “But not all trees. It’s not as if he could strike up a conversation with the large Oaks in the courtyard. It’s also infuriating to learn, considering to anyone unfamiliar with the language, it simply sounds like the speakers are saying ‘I am Groot’ repeatedly. Allspeak allows us to speak to others in their native languages, but it does not translate them back to us. Because of this, it would make sense to learn languages you’re actually going to use.”

Strange is quiet for a moment, just staring. It makes Loki’s mind jump to conclusions, like the other is having a bad time, or is bored, or maybe he has something stuck in his teeth. “What?” Loki finally inquires, shoving his own insecurities down. They were not going to rear their ugly head while he was busy trying to impress this mortal wizard. 

“I just… Ever since everything happened to me, I thought that I was beginning to live up to my name. Strange. But the more we speak, the more I realize there’s plenty of bizarre things out there that I cannot even begin to imagine.” He chuckles, something soft and insightful. It’s the most genuine expression Loki has seen on the man’s face since they met. Something in his stomach does an uncomfortable lurch and he chases the feeling with a swig of wine. 

“Your turn,” Loki finally starts after a moment of silence. “Why’d you become a brain surgeon?”

“That’s easy. The brain is the most complicated part of the human body. One wrong move during surgery and someone loses their ability to speak. Their ability to control parts of their own body. When I began to study, I knew I couldn’t settle for working on anything less.” He reflects on that for a moment, a little tremor in his fingers as he takes a sip of his wine. “I used to tell people I became a doctor after my sister died because I wanted to help people, but in all honesty, I did it for the recognition. I spent a rather large portion of my life blinded by my own arrogance.”

“I’d be lying if I said that I never did anything simply so people would speak of it,” Loki knew arrogance well. He also knew what it was like to do the right things with the wrong intentions. 

“Ah yes, I forgot this was a case of the pot calling the kettle black.” Strange jokes, moving to take the last bite of his dinner. “How many times do you think we thought of one another as narcissistic?”

“Too many to count,” Loki quips, lulling that over. The word was one that came to mind often when thinking about Strange. It was also a word that people often referred to him. Perhaps they were more alike than Loki had originally let himself see. 

“Exactly.” Strange finishes off his glass of wine, Loki taking this as a signal to finish off his own dinner. “Would you like to stay and watch a movie perhaps?”

“A movie?”

“It’s like a play but they record them to watch on television,” Strange explains, taking their dishes once they’re done. A little wave of seidr has them clean, the wizard having to stop himself from putting them in the sink. “Perhaps you can explain the finer details of that spell. I rather hate washing dishes.” 

“Another time,” Loki adds, knowing it was an obvious ploy to let Strange know he wanted to see him again. Still, Loki was both loving and hating the little flutters in his stomach he was experiencing and he wanted more of it. 

“Another time,” Strange agrees, seemingly pleased with that. Any leftovers are put in the fridge and the two of them find themselves in the lounge. The architecture and old furniture clash with the expensive flatscreen television and Amazon Alexa on the coffee table in a rather comedic way. 

“Another glass?” The wizard had thought to grab the red wine on the way out of the kitchen. Loki gives a slight nod, his glass being refilled. He knew he should cut himself off after this. While Thor and Brunnhilde could put back pints with ease, Loki was a lightweight. He had never been much of a drinker, mostly just taking a glass of wine with dinner. Sometimes a couple if there was something to celebrate, but he was fond of having a clear mind. He had often gone overboard on Sakaar, partially because Hela’s existence had raised so many questions and worries, and partially because the Grandmaster preferred him a little far gone. While the man had enjoyed some banter, he also enjoyed a pliant Loki in his bed. 

“What are we watching?” Loki finally inquires, watching Strange open up some program on his television and begin scrolling through titles. 

“What sort of stories do you enjoy?” 

“Tragedies.”

“Unsurprising,” he responds immediately, settling back against the couch cushions. Loki crosses his legs, discreetly scooting just a little closer to the wizard. A few more inches of wiggling and their legs would be touching. Loki just had to be patient. Not come across as too eager.

“I like realistic stories. I like stories that understand that things don’t always work out. That oceans aren’t going to part just to give the protagonist a happy ending.” Loki explains, crossing his arms. It was a little nice, being able to settle his other arm atop its counterpart in the sling. 

“I can’t argue with that,” Strange begins, eyes glancing towards Loki. “I have a movie in mind. It’s a long one, though.”

“I have time.” 

Strange nods, flicking through some titles until he finds the one he’s looking for. _Titanic_. “It’s based on a true story.”

“Even better.”

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


Two hours in and Strange requested a break. Some water, a bathroom break, and perhaps some popcorn. Loki thought all of these things sounded fantastic. 

“The ship is going to sink, isn’t it?” Loki asks as Strange puts the popcorn in the microwave. “They’re going to kill Jack, aren’t they?”

“I’m not going to tell you how the movie ends,” he glances up, giving Loki a look. Loki felt smug for figuring it out. Even if he was fond of Jack and Rose’s relationship, he knew from experience that good things rarely lasted. The trickster makes a face, noting that was probably not the kind of thought you were supposed to have on a first date.

They return to the couch with their popped corn and resume the movie. This time, however, Loki sits right by his side and is quite pleased with Strange draping an arm over his shoulders.

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


While Loki had definitely enjoyed the movie, and still loved tragedies, he couldn’t help but feel a little bitter about Jack’s death. “He could’ve fit on that door with her.”

“I know,” Strange says, legs now kicked up on the coffee table next to the empty popcorn bowl. He absent-mindedly strokes Loki’s shoulder with his thumb, backing out of the movie with the remote control. “That’s everyone’s argument. Perhaps the actual wardrobe was smaller than the one used in the movie.”

“Perhaps,” Loki scowls, resting his head back against the wizard and enjoying the other’s body warmth. He jumps a little at the ring of his phone, fetching it from his pocket. Thor. He swipes and brings it to his ear. “Yes?”

“Oh good,” Thor responds immediately. “I hadn’t heard from you in a few hours and I was beginning to think that Stephen actually locked you in a mirror dimension.”

Loki scoffs. He doubts the mirror dimension could hold him, anyway. “Thanks for your concern but I am fine. Str-- Stephen and I watched a movie. _Titanic_.”

“Oh, I’ve seen that one.” Thor’s frown is evident in his voice. “Even I shed a tear over Jack’s sacrifice.”

“He could’ve fit on the damn door!!” Loki huffs, rolling his eyes. “Look, I’ll be home late tonight.”

“It’s already past midnight.”

“Really late,” Loki corrects himself, resisting another eye roll. 

“And you’re sure that you are not in a mirror dimension?”

“Yes, Thor.”

“Okay, good. I shall be heading to bed soon. Goodnight, Lo.”

“Goodnight.” Loki hangs up, tucking his phone away and looking back at Stephen. He really should start thinking of him by his first name. “Thor was checking to make sure you hadn’t trapped me in another dimension.”

“How sweet of him,” Stephen chuckles. Despite the movie being over, he seemed too comfortable to move quite yet. Loki stays right against his side, moving to take the remote and scroll through some titles. 

“We could watch more _Friends_?”

“Thor would hate me if I watched it without him. It’s become our thing.”

“Fair. Any other ideas?”

“Something with handsome men. And death.”

“ _Supernatural _it is, then…”__

  
  


* * *

  
  
  


“He’s handsome but he’s an asshole,” Loki grabs his jacket from where he had ditched it on the couch. “Sam is definitely the better brother.”

“Everyone is entitled to their own opinion, even if it’s wrong.” Stephen quips back, drawing a circle with his arm. Golden sparks of magic dance around as the portal opens. He turns to offer his hand to Loki. Courteous. He takes it, letting the other escort him through the portal. They’re suddenly back in the shared living room of Thor and Loki’s place back in New Asgard.

“You’re insufferable,” Loki huffs, but there’s no actual bite to it. He’s growing far too fond of this guy far too quickly. He turns to face Stephen, their hands still clasped together. Loki looks up at him, the two of them locking eyes for a long moment. And then they’re suddenly leaning in, eyes fluttering shut before lips finally connect. Loki’s fingers trace the curve of his jaw, enjoying the feel of stubble against his fingertips. 

The kiss is sweet, and it sends little jolts of excitement through Loki’s body. He revels in the warmth of Stephen’s hands as they slide behind him, one trailing slowly down his spine and settling against the small of his back. Loki slips a hand into the doctor’s hair, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. Everything feels perfect; properly in place for the first time in a long time. Loki can’t think of the last kiss he participated in that he genuinely enjoyed on an emotional level. 

A sudden clash startles them from the kiss, both turning to notice Thor in the living room doorway. He seems to have knocked a lamp over in his startled state, looking a little bewildered and scrambling to get the light fixture upright. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Just wanted a glass of water.”

Stephen lets out a little snort, almost like a laugh despite his facial features coming across neutral. “I should be heading back to the sanctum anyway. It’s late.”

Loki would’ve been happy to stand in the living room snogging for the rest of the night, but he was quite tired himself. 

“I’ll be in touch,” Stephen says simply, pausing to give Loki a look. Was that a hint of longing in his eyes? Perhaps. Loki watches the wizard leave through another portal before turning to look at his brother. He’s grinning like mad.

“Loki has a boyfriend,” he starts, his tone sing-song. He comes over, immediately slinging an arm around Loki’s shoulder and gripping him close to his side. “No wonder you’ve been so obsessed with our friend Stephen! You have a crush!”

“I’m a thousand-year-old Norse god, Thor. I do not have crushes.” Loki groans, letting himself be held. Perhaps he was already missing the light cuddling with Stephen. “But yes, I might just have a boyfriend. I think things went rather well tonight.”

“He was a gentleman, right? I don’t need to give him the scary big brother talk?” 

“Gods, please don’t.” Loki rolls his eyes hard enough that it physically hurts. “The scary big brother talk is the reason I never had any friends as a teenager.” 

“You had awful taste in friends.” Thor points out, which was definitely untrue. While Loki certainly sought out the rebellious type most of the friends he had tried to make had been perfectly respectable to him. 

Loki’s first instinct is to point out that Thor’s taste in friends was just as bad, but considering the semi-recent death of the Warrior’s Three at the hands of their sister, it seemed to be in bad taste. Even Loki missed Fandral and his stupid poetry. He huffs and finally pushes himself out of Thor’s grip. “I’m going to bed. The rugs and tapestries I ordered for the library are being delivered tomorrow and I will be very busy figuring out their placement.”

Thor snorts at that, flashing a soft smile at Loki. “I bet it will look very nice,” he offers up, to which Loki preens a little. 

“It will,” he says, pausing outside his door to give his brother one last look. “Goodnight, Thor.”

“Sleep well, Lo.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its 1am here and im a little drunk so i apologize for any typos. ill probably proofread this more thoroughly tomorrow, but i really wanted to get this chapter out. we got some lovely lady loki this time and i am excited 
> 
> content warnings for this chapter: alcohol consumption and thats about it really. that and theres a little bit of nsfw in this chapter. its minor but thought id mention it.

"What if this is over the top?" Stephen murmurs aloud, pacing back and forth. He glances back to the bouquet of flowers on the coffee table. He had gone to a shop and spent far too long picking them out. Loki wasn't likely to know the Victorian language of flowers, but what if Asgardians had their own? He had drove the clerk trying to help him crazy with his constant mind-changing. Finally he had settled on something simple but elegant, dark red roses with little strips of gold filler. The clerk had gone a little over the top with the gold glitter, but they still looked rather lovely. "It's just a second date. I could text him and ask him out. That'd be acceptable."

Levi gives him a little whack on the cheek, flying off his shoulders and over to the flowers. He grabs the little attached card with an end, using another corner to point at it repeatedly. 

"What if he thinks its too much?"

Could a cloak deadpan? It seems like it. Levi just stares at him, which is a feat for something that doesn't have eyes. It finally moves again, miming some sort of dramatic scene for him like something out of a Shakespeare play. 

"He is a bit of a drama queen, isn't he?" Stephens huffs. If anything, maybe Loki wouldn't be impressed by the flowers. "Maybe they're not enough..."

This earns him a bonk on the head from the cloak. "Levi," he huffs, making a face. "That's unnecessary." This earns him another little smack. He just about groans, swatting the cloak away. "Fine, fine, I'll send the flowers." He moves to sit down by the coffee table, Levi bringing him a pen. He pauses, grimacing after a moment of realization. "I can't even sign my name anymore." Any attempts at writing were disastrous. His hands shook to the point it was nearly illegible. 

Levi pauses, giving a comforting touch to his shoulders before taking the pen back. It's corner wraps around it, another sliding the card closer to itself. It waits expectantly.

Stephen wonders if the cloak has ever written in its life. Oh well, its handwriting couldn't be any worse than his own. "Loki," he starts, watching the cloak write. Wow, it's handwriting was actually quite elegant. Like a long dead writer or something of the sort. "I had a... Wonderful time yesterday. Are you free this Friday? I would like to take you out. Stephen." He looks over the note, making a little face at the ';)' face Levi had added of its own accord. "Is that necessary?"

Levi seems to nod furiously, pretty dead set on the emoticon. Fine. Stephen folds the card and situates it in the flowers. Using his sling ring, he opens a portal to Thor and Loki's living room. A quick glance around tells him it's clear. He places the flowers on the coffee table there, stopping to rearrange them several times over. When had he gotten so nervous about dating? He used to be so sure of himself. Then again, that arrogance was what had ultimately driven Christine away. 

He returns to the sanctum, stopping to watch Levi. "What if he didn't enjoy himself as much as I did?"

Another almost deadpan look from Levi. "Look, maybe I convinced myself he had a good time." Stephen had certainly done this with Christine numerous times over. Levi makes a series of unidentifiable gestures. "Remind me to purchase you a dry erase board next time I go out. It would make communicating far easier."

The cloak nods before moving to settle on his shoulders again, fluttering in a way that almost felt like a massage. He sighs, wandering off towards the library to settle down. He puts on a playlist and grabs a book, settling into his favorite chair. It still radiated with a bit of Loki's residual magic, whilst almost smelling faintly of the other's cologne. He'd been a little miffed yesterday when the trickster stole his favorite seat, but perhaps it was worth it. 

Barely ten minutes had passed by when Stephen's music was interrupted by a text message. Loki. A picture of the flowers now in an expensive looking vase, along with a caption. ' _Looking forward to Friday ;)_ '

"I was wrong," Stephen finally says after a moment, looking to Levi. "The winky face was an incredible touch." 

As preposterous as it was, the cloak mimicked something that almost seemed like an 'I told you so'. Stephen shrugs it off, laughing a little and looking back to his phone. He hits the little microphone icon before speaking clearly. "Do you enjoy dancing? Or perhaps a movie?" He double-checks to make sure text-to-speech didn't butcher his message. Once he's satisfied, he hits send. 

The little ellipses shows up immediately to signal Loki's typing. Another message comes a moment later. It's the dancing woman emoji. Great, he's dating a Norse god who enjoys emojis. How old was Loki supposed to even be? His early twenties if Stephen had to guess from appearances alone. What was the male version of a cougar called? Then again, Loki was technically over a thousand years old. Aliens were bizarre.   
Stephen knew several high-end dance clubs in the area. Time to narrow it down to which one Loki would like best, which was hard when the only things you had to go off were that you're dating a prince and he gets bored easily. Extravagant and exciting. He could find a place like that. Hopefully.  
  


* * *

  
  
  
It's Thursday when Stephen receives a strange text from Loki. The two of them had been messaging a bit, mostly about magical theory and one video of Loki putting whipped cream in Thor's hand while he slept on the couch, before tickling his face until he sleepily smothered himself in the cream. Thor had taken it in stride, mostly because it tasted good, and Loki seemed delighted with his little prank. He apparently found it on YouTube. Loki was a genius in magic and science theory, whilst also enjoying children's pranks. It was endearing and Stephen had to wonder if he ever got it this bad this fast for someone before. 

All that being said, Stephen still hadn't expected the text ' _Do you like women? Or just men?_ ' It was an odd question coming from the man he was dating, but he guessed it was valid. He certainly didn't mind answering.

"Both." Text-to-speech picks up the word easily before he sends it, waiting for a reply. Then he adds a "What about you? And why the sudden curiosity?" Send. 

Typing... ' _While I've always had a bit of a preference for men, I still enjoy women from time to time._ ' Which is a fair response. More typing. ' _As a shapeshifter, I've always enjoyed changing forms and sometimes genders. The Valkyrie wanted a female sparring partner today and I'm rather fond of this form currently._ '

Oh. Stephen had not expected that. Loki had previously mentioned being able to shift, but not in great detail. He ponders how to respond for a moment before speaking again. "Should I refer to you as a woman for now then?" Send. 

' _I would appreciate it, yes._ ' 

Well, Stephen could certainly do that. He wondered what Loki looked like right now. If she was similar to her male form in features or perhaps vastly different. "May I see a picture of you?" Send.

' _Trying to see my tits already?_ '

Stephen laughs at that, his text-to-speech typing some nonsense in response. He backspaces that out quickly to actually respond. "It's alright. I'm a doctor. Nudes are purely for medical purposes."

' _You're insufferable._ ' Still, after a minute, a photo comes through. It's a casual selfie that Thor decided to join in on. The two appear to be on the living room couch, probably watching Friends again. Stephen focuses in on Loki's features, noting that while there were differences, it was largely similar to Loki's male face. Like twins, really. This form had slightly thicker lips and thinner brows, whilst still having that lovely strong jaw and high cheekbones that Stephen enjoyed looking at so much. The little touch of makeup was also rather flattering. 

"You're unbelievably gorgeous," Stephen replies after a moment before going back to study the picture. Was she shorter than usual? Loki was a petite thing as is, but she somehow looked even smaller now. Perhaps it was just in comparison to Thor's large frame in the photo. That man was humongous. 

Loki sends him a kissy face emoji in response. Then a follow-up message. ' _What should I wear tomorrow?_ '

"Can't go wrong with a classic. Little black dresses never go out of style." He also couldn't help but imagine how nice it'd be to see a little more of that creamy skin. From the selfie, it seemed that even in this form, Loki liked her high-collars and full coverage. “I’ll pick you up at eight.” 

‘ _Can’t wait._ ’  
  


* * *

  
  
  
Stephen stops to double-check himself in the mirror for the third time. The club he had chosen was upper-class and thus had a dress code to follow. He thinks his dark slacks and partially buttoned dress shirt look quite fetching and should more than appease. He had gone with a deep green shirt, wanting to play off of Loki’s natural color scheme. “Levi?” He calls, turning to watch the cloak. “Thoughts?”

The cloak floats over, using one of its bottom corners to make a shape resembling a thumbs up. Levi does reach over to poke at Stephen’s hair for a moment before seeming pleased. The wizard turns to look at himself again, deciding that a little bit of purposeful messiness does look rather charming. “Good eye,” he comments, once again noting the fact that the cloak didn’t actually have eyes. 

He takes out his phone to shoot Wong a quick text to let him know he was leaving. The Sanctum had alarms and whatnot set up if any intruders were to show up. Well, any intruders who weren’t as smart as Loki. Perhaps he could get the other to help him fortify those safety measures to avoid any issues in the future. He opens up a portal, deciding to stop in front of the front door instead of the middle of the living room. Good impressions and whatnot. After a moment he gives a little knock, offering Thor a small smile when he opens the door. 

“Oh Stephen, hello!” Thor grins back, stepping back to let the sorcerer inside. It takes Stephen a moment to figure out why Thor’s face looks a little… Off. 

“Is that eyeliner?” 

“Oh,” Thor stops, nearly touching his eye with a hand before stopping himself. “Loki was practicing on me. Something about the wings having to be symmetrical.”

“I think it suits you,” Stephen offers up. “Winged helmet, winged eyeliner. Basically the same thing.” It did actually look rather fetching on Thor.

Thor can’t help but grin a little at that, seeming pleased. “Perhaps I’ll start a fashion trend here by wearing it around.” 

Stephen imagined a bunch of warriors trying to get their eyeliner perfect. Then he imagined a bunch of warriors trying to help each other do their eyeliner. Okay, he could support this trend. “I think you should.”

Thor looks a little giddy over that before straightening up and leveling Stephen with a look. He perks up a brow curiously, wondering what’s to come. “My sister is still getting ready so she’ll probably be a few minutes.”

“I don’t mind waiting.” 

Thor gives a little nod, seemingly lost for words for a moment. “Stephen, you are my friend and I do not wish to upset you but you have to understand I am wary of anyone who shows particular interest in Loki. I have seen her go through several break-ups and while my sister is not one for letting her emotions be shown, I could still see they greatly bothered her. I just… Want to verify that your intentions are good.”

Stephen knew he should’ve suspected this. Loki had mentioned Thor’s tendency to be overprotective before. “I assure you that my intentions are good. I genuinely like Loki and I want to get to know him-- her, sorry.” 

“It’s alright. Takes a little getting used to. If you do that in front of her, just quickly correct yourself and apologize. She hates when people dwell on it.” 

“Noted.” Stephen nods, keeping that in mind for later. “But, as I was saying, I am not going after her for sex or power or anything else that motivates people. I do rather enjoy her company and I’d simply like more of it.”

Thor watches Stephen like he’s trying to decide if he’s telling the truth or not before finally nodding. “Alright. I just… Needed to hear that from you is all. That being said, it still stands that if you mistreat her, I’ll smash your skull in.”

“Also noted.” Stephen says, trying not to laugh. He was sure Thor could be plenty scary, but the man also had the demeanor of a golden retriever. “I would expect no less.”

“Good.” Thor nods, allowing an awkward moment to pass before moving to genially smack Stephen on the back. “So dancing, correct?”

“Oh, yes.” Stephen nods. “I know of a nice club that I think Loki will find enjoyable. Plus they have good food and strong drinks. Can’t really ask for much else.”

“Speak no more or I may end up tagging along,” Thor jokes, eyes crinkling. “New Asgard is still lacking good taverns, unfortunately. Makes me long for my favorite brothel back home. Spent many a night swapping stories with friends while enjoying a delicious meal and being fawned over by a beautiful wench.” He sighs, looking off for a long moment. Stephen could imagine the scene in his head quite clearly. He’s about to make a comment when he hears footsteps. He turns to look towards the stairs and immediately feels like he’s in one of those cheesy prom movies.

Still, Loki looks beautiful. Her dress is black and form fitting, ending a little higher than mid-thigh and covered in lace. The lace that makes up the high collar and sleeves is sheer, giving away a hint of creamy skin underneath. The little glimpse of skin under the lace is somehow even more attractive than Loki’s bare legs and it drives Stephen a little crazy. Her heels click against the stone floor as she makes her way to the bottom, red lips curling in a smirk. He notes her hair is pulled back in a braided bun, adorned with countless little plaits and tiny bits of jewelry. “Wow,” he finally manages, cementing his place in this cheesy prom movie he apparently lived in. “You look perfect.”

“Not too bad yourself,” Loki grins, her voice a little different than usual but still sporting that cut-glass accent he enjoyed quite immensely. 

“I did the braids.” Thor adds in, grinning and looking proud of himself. “She hates doing them herself and says seidr makes them too tight.”

“Well it does.” Loki starts, gently touching her hair. “It still does amaze me that your large hands are capable of something so delicate.”

“I love plaiting hair,” Thor points out. “Can’t do it to myself anymore either so I think I’ll just start doing your hair every morning.”

“We’ll see,” Loki rolls her eyes but there’s no malice to it. If anything, Stephen would guess she might like the idea at least a little. “So, we’ll be off now. Don’t wait up for me Thor.”

“Then don’t stay out so late I worry,” Thor retorts back with a grin, moving to wrap an arm around Loki before planting a little kiss on her forehead. He pulls back, giving Stephen a firm grip on the shoulder. “You two have fun and be safe.”

“I can assure you we’ll have fun. No promises that we’ll be safe.”

“I’m a doctor so if anything bad happens, I can probably stop the bleeding.” Stephen supplies, earning a little grin from Loki. “I’ll take good care of her, Thor.” He finally adds, giving Thor an awkward little arm pat before using his sling ring to make a portal. He steps through before offering a hand to Loki, making sure she doesn’t trip over the rim. Luckily, she seems to be an expert at walking in heels. 

Once the portal is closed, Loki levels Stephen with a look. “I hope he didn’t threaten you.”

“Only a little.”

She groans, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms. Stephen notices her nails are long and sharp, adorning black matte polish. Her hands were a little smaller than they used to be, but her fingers were still long and boney, each joint a little bulbous sphere that led to the next. “He’s absolutely ridiculous. He’s always done this. It’s like he has no faith in my choice of company.”

“I think he’s just overprotective.” Stephen supplies, motioniong Loki to follow him out of the alley they had teleported into. The bright light of the club painted the sidewalk out front a soft green color. “I didn’t get the impression that he was trying to scare me off. Just.... Vet me, really.”

“I don’t _need_ him to do that though,” Loki huffs, arms crossed under her chest and standing beside Stephen as they wait behind another group showing their IDs. “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“I know that. And I think he knows it too. Still, it doesn’t hurt to have someone watching your back.” Stephen shows his ID to the bouncer, quickly realizing Loki might not have one. He pauses, barely noticing the flick of her hand as she spells the bouncer to let her by. 

It’s a little loud once they get inside, making conversation hard to continue. Still, he was quite curious what sort of magic she used to do that. Mind control? He was unsure. He reaches to grab her hand gently so they don’t get separated in the crowd, leading Loki to the back where there was a staircase. The second floor was a sort of indoor balcony that went around the whole building, allowing them to look down at the dancefloor below. He finds them a table in a corner, something private, before waving down a waitress. She comes over and gets their drink orders, two Manhattans up. 

Loki waves her hand and suddenly the loud music seems muffled, as if an invisible wall has appeared between them and the rest of the club. “So what did I just order? I don’t know much of Midgardian alcohol so I just went with whatever you got.”

“Oh,” Stephen should have expected that. “A Manhattan is made of rye whiskey, sweet vermouth, and bitters. It’s usually served straight up, meaning it’s shaken with ice to become cold but served without it. There’s also usually a cherry placed on top. It’s a nice mix, not too sweet.”

“I don’t know what half of those words mean but that’s quite alright,” Loki says with a chuckle, peeking at the food menu on the table. “Are bitters exactly what they sound like?”

“Yes. Botanical alcohol meant to taste bittersweet. It’s a nice little bite with the sweet vermouth.”

“It does sound good,” Loki concedes, setting the menu down and poking a sharp nail at it. “What is a charcuterie board?”

“Oh, it’s a board full of mixed snacks. Meats, dried fruits, cheeses, jellies, crackers. You sort of mix and match things. They’re delicious.”

“We had those back on Asgard,” Loki comments, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind her ear. “I think I’d like that.”

“Fine by me.” Stephen nods, taking the waitress as she suddenly appears with their drinks. They order their charcuterie board, opting for some spicy jellies in the mix. Once the waitress is gone, Loki uses her nails to pick the maraschino cherry out of her drink and pop it in her mouth. She hums appreciatively before taking a sip. “Good?” Stephen inquires, knowing very well he might have to buy Loki several drinks tonight until she found something she liked.

“It’s not bad,” she comments, looking it over. “The vermouth is the sweet stuff, correct? I think they were a little heavy with it.”

Stephen tries his own before nodding in agreeance. “Different bartenders make them in different ways. I could get you something else?”

“Oh no, I’ll certainly drink it. I never said I didn’t like it. Just that it could be better.” Loki says with a shrug, holding the straw between her manicured fingers as she took another sip. “I also have some lovely vintages in my pocket dimension we could crack open if we so wished. While Asgard was known for its mead, we had plenty of vineyards that produced a plethora of enjoyable wines.”

“I will never turn down a good wine,” Stephen commends, using his straw to poke the cherry around his drink. He notes Loki eyeing it before sliding the drink closer to her. “You can have it.”

She grins, seemingly delighted in that muted sort of way Loki expressed most emotions. She stabs the cherry with her straw this time, not wanting to stick her fingers in someone else’s drink, before popping it between her red lips. Stephen tries not to dwell on the little hint of pink tongue he sees for a brief moment, looking back to his drink. “So how’s your library going?”

“Splendid. The rugs and tapestries I ordered look lovely in there and I finally have the shelves arranged in a way I like. Perhaps you could come visit sometime once it’s a little more polished.” 

“I’d like that.” Stephen gives a little nod, trying to imagine it. A lot of books were probably destroyed along with Asgard but Loki’s personal library must’ve been pretty vast. Plus he could probably order books off-planet. An intergalactic Amazon. He briefly wonders if there’s an alien Jeff Bezos out there somewhere swimming in his pool of money. 

Their charcuterie board comes after a few minutes and they both order a second drink. Stephen tries to change things up, this time getting them some martinis. Might as well try a few different classics to see what peaked Loki’s interest. 

That being said, the charcuterie board was apparently the most interesting thing she had seen all night. Loki was quick to try a little of everything before deciding what to mix together. “What is this?”

“Pancetta.”

“And this?”

“Pignolo cookies. They’re native to Italy.”

“These olives are delicious.”

“Good, then you’ll probably enjoy the drinks we just ordered.” Stephen hums, pairing a few things together and making little sandwiches with most of it. Christine had once told him that a charcuterie board was just the grown up version of a Lunchable. 

The board is half gone by the time the martinis come, and the rest doesn’t last long. Loki enjoys a good dry martini apparently, which Stephen takes note of. Once they’re done, Loki moves to stand, motioning for Stephen to follow. “Come on. We came out to dance, didn’t we?”

“That we did,” he follows her, the two of them heading down the steps and onto the dancefloor. Stephen hadn’t gone dancing in a few years but it wasn’t hard to get back into the rhythm when he knew every song that played. And Loki, despite being a prince and probably having taken some kind of formal dancing lessons, was quick to turn her back to him and move along with him. He gently touches her waist, grinning against her ear and just letting himself get lost in movement for a while. It was easy, between the beat of the music and Loki’s body moving against his. 

Stephen quickly lost track of time and how many songs had played since they started, only stirring out of his trance at Loki dragging him towards the bar. They get two waters, downing those quickly. Stephen feels a little silly with sweat on his brow while Loki seems unaffected by the movement and heat. 

“Jotuns don’t sweat,” she supplies at his curious expression. “Always thought I was just lucky I didn’t end up gross and sweaty after training sessions like my brother. Turns out I was just an alien.”

Stephen laughs at that, wondering briefly if Loki could somehow hear his thoughts. She doesn’t make another comment so perhaps it had just been a good guess. “Well, that is a nice perk. Sweat is vastly overrated.”

“I agree.” She smirks, setting her empty glass down. She waves down the bartender. “Two shots of something strong. Doesn’t matter what as long as it’s top shelf.”

The bartender pours them quickly and Stephen and Loki clink the small glasses together before tossing them back. He places his cup top-side down before sliding off the stool and urging Loki to follow. “Come on. I’m ready to dance some more.”  
  


* * *

  
  
  
It takes Stephen several tries to get the portal right, it finally forming after the fourth circle of his hand. He steps through, Loki following closer behind. She laughs a little as they stumble into her living room, the portal closing behind them with a sizzling noise as they collapse onto the couch together. Stephen laughs, unsure of where his limbs begin and end. He probably should’ve stopped drinking three drinks ago, but that didn’t happen. Loki is a pleasant weight on top of him though, limp from her own drinks. He lifts his head to look at her, playing with a stray hair that had fallen loose. “I told you I could get us here with all our limbs.”

“If I wasn’t drunk, I would shift away a leg to scare you.” Loki mutters against his chest before lifting her head. She rests her chin there, blinking a few times as if her eyelids weighed more than they usually did. 

“I’d be drunk enough to believe it.” Stephen laughs, dropping his head back against the couch arm. The whole world spins for a long moment, settling into a dull thud in the back of his head before his vision finally clears. “I overdid it. I forgot I’m not twenty-five anymore.”

Loki chuckles and Stephen feels her trailing a sharp nail lightly over the exposed skin around his collar. He had opened up another button or two while dancing to try and combat the heat, which had proven ineffective. That action seemed to have a purpose now though as Loki traced sensitive little circles in the skin. He hums appreciatively, slowly tilting his head up again. 

“You shave,” she comments, indicating the lack of chest hair.

“I take my appearance rather seriously.”

“As do I.”

Stephen hums an affirmative, blinking sleepily a few times. He sighs as Loki leans up to kiss him, a sluggish hand moving to cup the side of her head. He tilts his head into the kiss, their laps dragging together sweetly. He groans, low and soft, as her tongue touches his. Loki pulls away after a long moment, mouthing over his jaw and down to his Adam’s apple. “Watch Thor catch us again,” she mutters, chuckling softly against his skin.

“I hope not. Earlier I swore to him I had pure intentions,” he mutters in response, his hands roaming over her back. He feels her body shake as she laughs again, playfully nipping at his neck. “Mmph,” he tilts his head back again, just enjoying the attention. Loki shifts on top of him pleasantly, a little bit of friction in all the right places. 

“You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep,” Loki teases, sitting up just enough to look at him. “Your cock is stabbing me.”

“Stabbing is a pretty harsh verb. Violent. It’s simply trying to get well acquainted.” Stephen jokes, shifting a bit so he wasn’t poking Loki. “Sorry about that.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment.” Loki hums, moving to sit up properly and slide off of him. “However, if this is to continue, we should probably go to my chambers.”

God, Stephen genuinely considered it for a moment before sitting up and shaking his head. “No, no. We are both quite inebriated. I’d rather wait.”

“...Yeah?” Loki arches a brow, seemingly surprised by this. Stephen isn’t sure what to make of that. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you’re a gentleman.”

“The fact that I can surprise you at all pleases me.” Stephen adds before scooting closer to kiss her again. This one is soft, gentle, but still lasts longer than expected. He pulls back, bumping their noses together for a moment before retracting. She sighs, bending over a little so she can undo the straps of her heels. She slips them off, holding them both in a single hand as she stands. 

“Goodnight Stephen,” she hums, giving another long glance before heading towards the stairs. He watches her pad up them, heels dangling from her hand. She pauses at the top of the steps, turning to flash him a devilish little smirk. “By the way, you weren’t the only one who was hard.” And with that, she was gone and Stephen’s dick was aching against his zipper. He moves to adjust it in his pants, unable to keep his mind from wondering just what Loki was hiding under that dress. 

He huffs, shakily waving his hand around a few times until a portal finally forms. He steps through it and flops right over on his bed, rolling over so his trembling fingers can fight his belt and buttons. He’s stripped to his underwear in record time, giving himself a firm squeeze through his boxers. He sighs in relief, only to tense up a moment later as he hears Levi’s familiar fluttering. He looks over to see the cloak ‘watching’ him awkwardly. “...I am drunk.” The cloak floats there for a moment longer before heading out the door and closing it behind itself. 

“Great,” Stephen mutters. “This is my room y’know!” He calls after the cloak, yanking the blanket over himself and rolling over to try and forget the whole thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so giddy over these two. i have so many ideas for this fic honestly, including one where loki gets to interact with kids. i wish i hadnt been so busy lately or i wouldve written more for this already but oh well. hope everyone enjoys!


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